


Statement of Carmen Sandiego, regarding her time as… an entity of The Hunt

by SomeChaosSpinner



Series: Red hat under green eyes: Carmen Sandiego/TMA AU [4]
Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crossover, Eh I'm gonna tag it player, Gen, I feel like I should but I don't want to ruin the surprise, I'm having a field day writing these tags btw, Julia hasn't slept in a week, Mage: carmen is fine right? Me: Haha no, No beta we kayak like Tim, Other, Should I tag this player?, Spiders, let's go lesbians let's go, she was awake, she was weak, the spiders are foreshadowing wOOooooHHHHH, you'd never met an overworked blue gay more in need of a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29558517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeChaosSpinner/pseuds/SomeChaosSpinner
Summary: Statement never given. Recorded July 3rd, 2021, by Julia Argent, the archivist.Three months after Carmen went feral, there are no new leads on her whereabouts, but there is a new statement...Sequel to Sleepless Nights, go read that first or you're gonna be hella confused
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent/Ivy
Series: Red hat under green eyes: Carmen Sandiego/TMA AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199588
Kudos: 5





	Statement of Carmen Sandiego, regarding her time as… an entity of The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> A quick recap for all y'all new here who didn't read Sleepless Nights and stubbornly refuse to:
> 
> She/they archivist julia  
> Head of archives Chief  
> Archival assistants Zack, Ivy, and Chase  
> Hunt!Carmen, sort of litterally went feral last we met  
> Go read the other hunt Carmen statement if you want to theorize about the spIdeRwEBs (whooooo *ghost sounds*)

[Recording begins]

(Julia sighs heavily)

Julia: Statement… statement of Carmen Sandiego, regarding her time as… an entity of The Hunt. Statement never given. Recorded July 3rd, 2021, by Julia Argent, the archivist.

(Pause)

Julia: Statement begins.

Julia: Carmen was hungry.

She was not sure what she was hungry for, exactly. But she did know how to satisfy it. She could satisfy it in the screams, in the intoxicating smell of fear and exhaustion and  _ weakness _ , in the  _ crunch _ of bones, in her own sheer power reigning triumphant  _ every time. _

It didn’t matter, though. The hunger always returned. There were always more sheep to sate it, and she, after all, was a wolf.

Sometimes she hunted with others. Were they once like her, denying their calling, withering away in resigned silence until they realized that they didn’t have to hide who they were? Or had they always been there, always wolves, always hunting? 

She didn’t know. Once the Hunt took over, it was impossible to tell man from monster.

Carmen didn’t mind the company, despite the grim reminders of her fate. She knew that if one of them showed weakness for even a moment, the others would be quick to snuff that soul out.

It compelled her to keep moving, keep chasing the next prey, be it animal, person, her own pack.

Sometimes it struck her, how  _ strange _ this may have seemed to her before. It struck her that before, she never would have known of this calling, even though, now that she had taken on The Hunt, the only thing strange to her was that she had not accepted it sooner.

Her emotions were…  _ different _ as The Hunt. emotions such as empathy and sympathy, naturally, were things that she never felt. Emotions such as happiness only came as she was running towards the next target. 

The emotion of anger was constantly at its peak.

She did not mind. All these things combined only made her a more capable hunter. And as the days turned into weeks, she appreciated more and more the  _ benefit _ of being a capable hunter.

She slept less frequently. When she did, sometimes she would dream. They were strange dreams, full of twisted logic, things that didn’t make sense _. _

There was one dream. She was not Carmen, but another woman, falling, and falling, and falling. And there was no end to this  _ hell _ of heights, and vertigo, and wind rushing around her; and she would be here forever, until the end of time, or she died. 

But she would only die, she knew, if this void  _ allowed  _ her to. If the twisted consciousness at the head of her own torment decided she had suffered enough to experience mortality.

But then strong, capable hands were grabbing her, and  _ she _ was that person, she was Carmen. She was holding the sobbing, shuddering, retching redhead, telling her that she was okay, that it was over. That she was sorry that she had left her behind.

It struck her as odd that this version of her tolerated such weakness. But then again, it was only a dream, or a memory of what she had once been. 

She was not that person anymore, so she had nothing to fear from her own weakness.

There was another. __

She was running through a large house with two other people. But it wasn’t… right, it wasn’t a house that she had ever been too before. It was plain, and so empty it somehow felt too small to bring anything in beyond those ghastly white chairs. It radiated malice, not towards her, but towards her companions, two redheads, one which she recognized from the other dream. They were all checking rooms, calling out a name. She no longer knew the name, she only knew the  _ feeling  _ of the name. The cast left behind but not the result of its mold.

But she knew, even now, what they were searching for.

She knew because even in this dream, she had the scent. Burning in her nostrils, tugging at her senses, and this act of hunting and searching compelled her, pleaded with her,  _ begged _ her to give into it all the way. To give into that mad desire, to tear her two redheaded companions apart, to leave before this place took her, too. 

But there was another part of her, another long since gone, telling her to stay here, that she had a task; that she was  _ stronger _ than the urges.

(Julia takes a shuddering breath)

They found them, a person, slumped against a wall. Their eyes were barely open, and her skin was a discolored grey. Her face was out of focus, as if the camera that had recorded this picture-perfect memory had not focused correctly. 

The redhead woman shouted her name.

_ Weak. _ she was  _ weak. _ The thought hit Carmen, and she had blinked away her own bloodlust. She told the woman to stay awake, to keep her wits about her. It was advice to herself, just as much as it was to the person looking up at her and seeing nothing in her own confusion. She focused on leaving, on escaping. 

The person mumbled something in her delirium, as Carmen followed the scent out of the damned place, and it sounded like  _ thank you. _

Her own weakness scares her. And so she shakes those memories off her, as easily as the dew from her fur, and she continues to hunt.

She thinks back to her past ‘friends’ sometimes. She may have considered them friends as a point. May have considered that some of them understood her, even. But now, she knows, they were only using her for information, manipulating her for their own greed. Hunger for knowledge is, of course, characteristic of the eye. 

It bothers her that she didn’t connect the hunger and, what seemed then like, benevolent curiosity. It could have saved her  _ so much pain _ . 

The archivist  _ lied _ to her. The head of the archives  _ lied _ to her. She starved in  _ silence _ , picking off  _ rats _ , for so long; because she was more useful reading dusty old  _ post it notes _ in a half starved state than she ever would be  _ now _ to the eye’s games.

_ Are we still human, Carmen _ ?

Sometimes, when she thinks back to that question, she becomes angry. How foolish she was.

_ We are not. _

She does not know the person she hunts now. She rarely does. Her own past life is fuzzy, because it no longer matters _. _ What matters now is the thrill of the kill, the call of the hunt. The call of the hunt, which commands her senses, her pounce, her teeth into the screaming, pleading, sobbing woman.

Her fear does not deter Carmen. In fact, she finds it exhilarating. 

She knows, in the past, she would have released the woman. She would have shown mercy, pointedly resisted the hunt. She would have shown the entity that it did not control her. She would have remembered the confessions, akin to a promise, made on a late night to those who may have considered her a friend.

She thought it was a show of strength.

She was wrong.

It was a show of weakness.

She is wiser now. And as she waits for the other humans to come, lured by the screams of their companion, she knows she is finally, rightfully on top.

(Pause)   
  
Statement ends.

Ivy: That’s  _ it? _

Julia (alarmed):  _ Mon de dieu. _ How long have you been standing there?

Ivy (exasperated): About five minutes. You get kind of… you know, when you’re recording.

Julia: I’m aware, Ivy.

(Pause)

Ivy: Was that supposed to help? It didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. Carmen’s gone, and we don’t know how to help her. Or if we even can.

Or if we want-

Julia: I don’t know! There isn’t a goddamn  _ menu _ I can order the perfect statement from! It shows up on my desk and I record it.

(Heavy sigh)

Julia: We  _ could _ use missing person’s accounts. If the Eye was accurate, and of course it is, then a group of people went missing after, most likely, a disturbance was reported to the police or at least a friend because-

Ivy: When was the last time you slept?   
  
Julia: When was the last time  _ you _ slept?   
  
Ivy (automatically): Twenty two hours ago. (Pause)  _ Fuck.  _ Julia.

Julia:  _ Gah. _ Sorry. Although you should probably… go home soon. 

Ivy: I haven’t been leaving. …It’s not safe anymore.

(Pause)

Ivy: How’s your arm?

Julia: Better than it was. It still sort of hurts, but you know. Could be worse.

Ivy (sighing): Life was  _ so  _ much easier as a researcher. When we thought the guys in the archives were just the lunatics  _ insane _ enough to believe these crazy stories for a living.

(Julia lets out a bitter chuckle)

Ivy: What is that?

Julia: I don’t know. Cobwebs? 

Ivy: Where did they come from? They look recent… 

Julia: It fits the aesthetic of the place, doesn’t it? Old, dusty haunted library with cobwebs on the tapes.

Ivy: Heh. Yeah.

[Recording ends]


End file.
